Ordered Chaos
by Cybra
Summary: A series of eight short stories written for Death the Kid Week 2017 covering Kid's interactions and relationships with various characters.
1. Balance

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** Liz notices that Kid's acting shy around his new classmates. Upon learning of past childhood trauma during a failed attempt at integrating with his age mates as a toddler, she and Patty come up with a plan to help him feel more comfortable showing his reaper abilities around his classmates…and to show him off to the other Weapons.

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _Balance_

Reapers were creatures of Order. As such, they had an innate sense of perfect balance. Not the left-right or up-down visual balance of symmetry (despite what Kid would go on and on about in the middle of one of his fits), but the ability to perch in places too precarious for humans to dare attempt or to simply put one foot in front of the other with no fear of either falling or tripping. Most people likely wouldn't have thought to call a male "graceful", but that was precisely what Kid was. It was one skill that high society valued that Kid hadn't needed to be formally educated on.

Liz would've given birth to the Madness of Jealousy were it not for the fact she got such a kick out of watching people react to it. Well…react to that and the many other strange abilities her Meister possessed.

Unfortunately, she was currently being robbed of her free entertainment. With Kid now starting classes at the DWMA, the young reaper had been much more reserved than normal. He even seemed to be working to try and avoid putting his powers on display. It'd taken her several days to work out the issue:

Kid was being shy.

It also explained why he'd been more neurotic than normal about being perfectly presentable or making sure the house was in order before leaving. Now those three hours they'd lost that first day made sense, and she felt a little guilty for not recognizing the problem sooner. The only reason he hadn't shied away from fighting Soul and Black*Star was because the duo had managed to slam their fingers down on every one of Kid's buttons and had sent him into a rage.

To be honest, it was a bit silly that her Meister who had faced down threats many times his small size without a hint of fear, the son of Lord Death himself, was acting shy towards his new classmates. One bribe of allowing him to give her the perfect mani-pedi later (not that it was much of a hardship given an authentic Death the Kid mani-pedi put five-star salons to shame), and she'd gotten the story of how his father had attempted to put him into a normal preschool and his powers had gone out of control from his nervousness on his first day. She'd grimaced as he'd told her of how he'd been labeled "monster" by the other children and the teachers alike, and his father had never sent him back. (She'd also mutely made a vow that if she ever met this "Mrs. Ferguson", she would beat the woman within an inch of her life. It'd be merciful given what Patty would've done if she ever found out.) Something like that happening when he was so young had definitely left a mark, and attending classes likely reminded Kid of that disastrous first day as a small child. Never mind that Kid had long since learned proper control, the anxiety brought on by the memory would be enough to bring out such shy behavior.

So Liz came up with a plan to allow Kid to show off without frightening everyone, proving to not just the other students but himself that he was no monster…no matter how bad of a beating he'd given Soul and Black*Star last month. Recruiting Patty to help had taken no effort or bribery at all. After all, there was one thing all Weapons had in common:

They loved to show off their Meisters.

PE was the chosen venue to showcase their Kid. Every other Friday was a sort of free period: As long as you were doing something physical, you could do whatever you wanted. Black*Star and Killik usually went all-out. Most others did something fairly simple so they could chat while they trained.

Liz had been asking Kid to help her with her own sense of balance for quite some time, so he didn't even bat an eye at her request they spend some time on the balance beam. Patty jogged around it as Kid lead her step by step along the length and back, shouting taunts at Kid while cheering on her sister. Liz felt a little mortified that Kid had to keep grabbing her to save her from falling, but she let her pride take the hit. If her plan worked, the young reaper's anxieties about attending school with human students would be calmed, and that would soothe her bruised ego.

A glance out of the corner of her eye showed people looking with interest in their direction as Kid walked smoothly backwards on the beam without having to check his footing before easily leaping over her to help her turn around and continue walking, twisting mid-air to face her as he did so. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until they'd gained quite an audience without Kid's noticing…or if he did, he probably figured all eyes were on Liz, not on the balancing feats he performed so effortlessly.

"I need a break," Liz declared. "Give me a hand down?"

He took her hands in his, turning as she jumped down and using his grip to slow her fall.

Now came Patty's part.

"Do a backflip!" the younger sister cheered.

"A backflip?" Kid asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"It was so boring watching you and Big Sis just walk back and forth! Besides, you gotta do some exercising, too!" Patty exclaimed, jumping up and down and giving a few of the boys watching nosebleeds as her breasts bounced with her. "Do a backflip! No hands!"

Kid rolled his eyes but, as Liz had predicted, moved to oblige the younger pistol. One thing she and Patty had swiftly figured out about their odd little Meister was that he enjoyed spoiling them whenever possible be it with his time, his ridiculous amounts of money, or his abilities. So he did as Patty asked, performing three neat backflips in a row and landing on the balls of his feet at the very edge of the beam.

Before he could even think to dismount, Liz chimed in with "Somersault!"

Startled by the sudden request, Kid automatically fulfilled it. And the next one. And the next one. Forward flips, back flips, twists, spins, each maneuver the girls demanded was performed flawlessly with not a stumble or a moment of dizziness to be seen. The entire class stopped, jaws dropping all around as the girls kept calling for more, changing the rules from no-handed to both hands to one-handed to just fingertips. The Thompson sisters showcased their Meister like a handler might show off a particularly well-bred and well-trained dog only this dog met each of their demands with an amused and content smile at seeing their glee.

Liz smirked smugly at a group of female Weapons who'd made their disdain for the sisters and how they'd managed to land the Grim Reaper's son as a partner well-known. In a way, this wasn't just letting their Meister shine; it was also staking a claim: Kid was hers and Patty's, and they were his. Those who didn't like it could stuff it.

She then waved a hand carelessly. "All right, you can come down now. Just make it look good."

Kid gave a snort but obliged her request, performing three neat somersaults before landing perfectly between her and her sister. It was then that he finally noticed the audience.

"…Is there something wrong?" he asked all the gawking faces, blinking in confusion.

The twin pistols fell against him laughing, prompting him to catch and support them. His bewildered face made them laugh all the harder.

* * *

"That was rather petty of you, Liz," Kid scolded later after school.

She gave an unrepentant grin. "Did you see the look on Rebecca's face? Totally worth it. I'm guessing you bribed Patty into spilling the beans. What'd you have to give up?"

"Two chocolate chip cookies and one of those coloring books with the smaller parts to color inside of the larger picture. I think she might be taking a more serious interest in art." He paused. "Well, as serious as Patty gets with anything, I suppose."

"Maybe she is. She did make those napkin sculptures all the time at Deathbucks."

"She did. That and all the origami." Kid put a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Perhaps I'll see about getting her some clay, too."

"She'd like that." Liz's grin then softened. "Feeling any better?"

He blinked at her before his pale cheeks took on a rosy tint. He gave a sheepish nod. "I know it's silly…"

"You're only human…or at least close enough to it." She pulled him into a hug. "Showing off every now and then's okay. You're not gonna hurt anybody…well, unless somebody calls you out and then you can crush 'em."

He chuckled as he leaned into her hug, and she felt his soul wavelength rippling against hers. Even if he tried to resume his scolding later or gave her and her sister some lecture about not treating him like a trained seal, the feel of his soul contentedly purring made it all worthwhile.


	2. Black and White

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** Kid's preference for black and white has prompted plenty of speculation, but the real reason is a lot more mundane than everyone guesses.

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _Black and White_

Black and white. White and black. These two colors dominated just about everything in regards to Kid from his clothes to his home decor.

A lot of people speculated on why that was. There were all sorts of explanations for why the young reaper chose to stick with monochrome whenever possible.

Some believed it was because of his need for things to be balanced. What two colors could be _more_ balanced than black and white? Everything else needed a color chart to see which colors were complementary to others.

Some claimed it was a subtle plea for simplicity. The world was loud and chaotic. To someone as tightly controlled as Kid, it was probably like walking through Hell itself every day.

Many thought it had to do with his father though the reasoning was split. Half thought it was because Lord Death had made it something like a standard uniform for Kid. The other half thought it was purely voluntary to honor his father who was nothing but black and white.

A few people thought they were simply Kid's favorite colors. Death god or not, why wouldn't he use the hues he preferred for just about everything?

Kid always listened to others' speculation regarding this, making noncommittal noises where appropriate and politely excusing himself due to important reaper matters at the earliest opportunity. When he couldn't escape, he usually led the conversation so far away from the topic that people forgot what they'd originally asked him about until much later. (Being tutored in diplomacy was a serious boon and a skill he exploited at every opportunity much like how his father used puns.)

He probably should've just told them and ended the mystery, but the fact of the matter was that the real reason was too embarrassing:

White went with everything, black went with everything, but patterns weren't always so easy to match up. Had his Lines been three complete Rings, there would've been no issue, but the stripes in his hair looked strange whenever he wore anything _but_ white or black. As a man of status, he needed to look impeccable, the black and white clothing helping to disguise the fact that the patterns didn't always quite match up with his Lines.

As for the house, well, black just made it easier on his need to keep things clean. (He would've never realized Patty had spilled her soda on the couch and not been able to get all of it up if it hadn't started to smell.) The white was really just to keep the entire Gallows Manor from becoming one giant cave. That and a former nanny had nearly quit the first day when he'd disappeared into the shadows created by black walls during hide-and-seek: She'd sworn his childish giggles had come from every shadow in the house. Really, it was for everyone's health and sanity that the Gallows had white mixed in with all the black.

And if he wanted to be honest with himself, he'd admit he was starting to enjoy listening to all the speculation. Explaining himself would ruin the fun.


	3. Facing God (Justice)

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** A "What If?" scenario where Justin survived the Battle on the Moon and returned to sanity. Justin wakes up in the hospital, and the new Lord Death has a few words for him. Some one-sided Justin/Kid. Written for the prompt "Justice".

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _Facing God_

It wasn't the sight of the ICU's ceiling that shocked Justin when he woke up but the fact that he'd woken up _at all._

He should've been dead. Why wasn't he dead?

He couldn't see out of one eye and attempting to raise a hand to feel what was blocking it only resulted in him discovering he'd been strapped down to the bed he lied on. Any attempts to summon a blade to free himself failed, creating a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"It's about time you woke up. Your soul wavelength's been flailing about for days; it's been annoying."

He froze, easily recognizing the voice. He'd gotten to know its screams rather well over the…how long had it been? Weeks? Months? When you lost yourself fully to Madness, it became difficult to judge time.

He turned his head so that his good eye could see the figure standing there in the dim "nighttime" lights of the ward, a figure dressed in black with a shadowy cloak wrapped around his shoulders. Three white Rings glowed softly like halos on the other's head, and golden yellow eyes matched their glow.

Death the Kid. And it seemed he'd managed to fully awaken as a true death god.

Justin's mouth went dry as he remembered standing around and listening to the boy's screams as Gopher had tortured him. Back then, he'd reveled in the sound while the Clown hummed along as if the cries were a symphony.

His thoughts stopped. The Clown. He couldn't feel the Clown anymore. When was the last time he hadn't at least sensed its presence lurking nearby?

"Your confederate is dead," Kid said flatly, startling the former Death Scythe who wondered if the reaper had somehow read his mind. "You were barely alive when the DWMA and Witches recovered the casualties. I ordered you be brought here to recover while I decided what to do with you."

Justin shrank down as best as he could. "And…the Kishin?"

"Sealed away."

He wanted to ask how Asura had lost and why Kid had insisted on his recovery, but the look in the death god's eyes silenced him.

"Your Mad God is gone. Father has passed on. You realize what that means, I assume?"

The blond swallowed harshly. Oh, yes, he did know. He knew very well indeed:

This newly-crowned Death, the one he'd _wronged,_ was now in charge of deciding his fate. Justin had no one else to appeal to for help, the same position Kid himself had been in during his captivity.

"For right now I just want to understand: _Why, Justin?"_ Kid demanded softly. "Why did you follow Asura?"

The former priest felt tears stinging his eye and he choked on a sob. He wished the Grim Reaper would collect his soul and be done with it, no questions asked. However, the young man's face was soft and desperate for answers for how someone who'd once been such a dear friend of the family could betray everyone and even murder the people he'd once worked with as a friend and colleague.

He couldn't bear to admit the horrible truth, the source of weakness that the Clown had exploited to fill his world with Madness: A man of God was supposed to love God not _be_ _in love_ with God.

With the Madness the Clown constantly infected him with gone, he felt the guilt all the more keenly. Despite the three completed Rings, Kid still appeared as delicate as the day Justin had met the young son of Death five years ago when he'd first become a Death Scythe. He still looked like the young adolescent Justin had fallen in love with three years later over the course of an afternoon they'd spent together.

It was the ultimate blasphemy. Kid was a god and, therefore, forbidden fruit, yet the former priest had relished every time he'd gotten a chance to touch the other's soft hair or he'd coaxed a smile from the serious boy's lips. His dreams were haunted by the one he'd vowed to kneel before in supplication. Such hubris was unbecoming a man of the cloth.

The Clown had somehow found out and constantly whispered in his ear, somehow managing to cut through the loud music the young man had constantly listened to, echoing the thoughts Justin sought to bury:

' _What kind of good and righteous god would dangle such temptation before the faithful and demand they never partake of it?'_

' _He's flesh and bone just like me. Doesn't that make us equal?'_

' _The Kishin is the only true source of justice in this world: He allows me to enjoy the suffering of gods in retribution for the suffering they inflicted on me.'_

It had taken time, not nearly as much as it should have, but the Clown had succeeded in wearing him down, and he'd welcomed Asura as his new god with open arms.

"I…I can't tell you," Justin whispered hoarsely, shame choking him.

"You can't or you won't?" Kid, no, _Lord Death_ snapped.

"Can't. Just that my soul wasn't as strong as everyone thought it was, and the Clown found the weakness."

He wanted to look away, but primal instinct kept his only working eye locked on the young Death. He was completely at the other's mercy, a criminal before an all-powerful Judge. Even if he somehow escaped, there was nowhere to hide. This newly-crowned death god didn't have the limitations of the previous one and could chase him to the ends of the Earth. Even if Justin were never caught in life, Lord Death would be waiting for him the moment he breathed his last; the God of Death had more than enough time to play the part of the patient hunter.

"BJ. Tezca. Father knows how many more," the reaper said with a grimness befitting his title. "You weren't in your right mind, but you still murdered them. Now your fate is mine to decide."

The former Death Scythe shivered, knowing that there was one other crime that this Lord Death hadn't mentioned. Then again, he didn't need to: They both knew how Justin had done nothing to help when the young death god had been captured. Even if the former Lord Death were presiding over his Judgment, there would've been no impartiality: The older Death's beloved son had been tortured while Justin, someone they'd both trusted, had stood by and simply listened.

The current Lord Death leaned closer to him, fury written in every line of his face. His eyes morphed from their usual double irises to a pair of skulls.

The machines that had been muted background noise suddenly began screeching as Justin's heart raced. He was at the mercy of the Grim Reaper, and it was likely the staff knew the young god was here and had been ordered not to interfere. There would be no one to stop Lord Death from doing as he pleased.

"Killing you right now is very tempting," the reaper hissed. "But I don't want to make it easy on you. Death is kind, and right now I'm not feeling very kind. The sort of justice I have in mind for your victims requires you to live."

The blond shivered, not simply because the Grim Reaper's breath was ice cold.

"Luckily for you, I'm still working out the details," the reaper told him before heading towards the door, shadow cloak drifting about him. "Enjoy your rest while you can."

Nurses swarmed into the room the moment the death god exited. Justin didn't look at them, barely acknowledged their presence as drugs were administered to calm him. All he could do was watch with unblinking eyes as this young Lord Death walked past the window and disappeared around a corner, mesmerized. He didn't stop staring at the last place he'd seen the reaper until the drugs finally pulled him down into darkness.


	4. In The Private Library of Death (Books)

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** Early in his friendship with Maka and the others, Kid is visited by her and her Weapon in the Gallows' library. When Maka makes it obvious she has no intentions of leaving any time soon, Kid chats with Soul. Written for the prompt "Books".

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _In The Private Library of Death_

"Kid, you've been holding out on me!"

Aforementioned reaper flailed at the sudden voice breaking through the comforting silence. The book he'd been shelving slipped free of his fingers, and he hastily snatched it out of the air to place it atop the stack he'd balanced on a rung above him. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his negligence in paying attention to his Soul Perception.

The book properly taken care of—it was over a hundred years old and irreplaceable after all—Kid turned around on the rolling ladder, facing the rest of the massive room. "Hello, Maka. Can I help you?"

Maka almost literally sparkled: her eyes wide and mouth slack-jawed with the same sort of joy the young reaper had seen on the faces of many a Death worshipper meeting him or his father for the first time. The high-pitched noise she made sounded like a cross between a squeal and a sigh.

Soul, who stood just behind her, looked mortified. "Secret's out, Kid. I hope you enjoy your new roommate because _she's never going to leave."_

It was tempting to just leap down to meet his unexpected guests, but he didn't want to risk disturbing the books. Instead he stepped lightly down the ladder to walk over to them, sliding his hands into his pockets. "It's not much all things considered." He looked back over the library. "Really, the DWMA's library is far larger."

"Dude, our apartment building could probably fit in here with room to spare and it has nothing but _books."_ Soul paused, tilting his body to better take in the view. "Okay, and some places to sit and read or study, I guess, but mostly books." He squinted. "Is that an electric fireplace insert?"

"Have you ever tried taking care of a wood fireplace? It's a _nightmare,"_ Kid said unhappily. "Soot and smoke everywhere if you're not careful and the risk of a chimney fire if you don't keep it properly cleaned. This collection is priceless; I'm not going to put it at more risk than I have to."

"Makes sense, I guess." The scythe looked unhappily to his Meister who still stood frozen in her place. "Can you check with your Soul Perception to make sure she's still alive? I'm pretty sure she died."

Kid chuckled as Maka suddenly started walking like a stiff-legged zombie towards a massive volume that took up its own table: the collection's catalog. "It's going to take her a while to look through that." He looked back to Soul. "Well, since you're going to be stuck here, you might as well sit down and read something yourself. Or you can help me."

"Please tell me you're not re-organizing this place," Soul begged but he fell into step behind Kid as the reaper started walking back to the ladder he'd been originally perched on.

The reaper looked back at the scythe with a baffled stare.

"Y'know, like arranging them by size or whatever," Soul said awkwardly.

"Why would I—Oh. I, um, I see why you'd think I'd do that." Kid gave a polite cough in an attempt to hide his embarrassment about his…eccentricities. "No, I was working on the new catalog. That old one is useful but highly inefficient for searching since new books were hastily scratched into the margins or on pages stuck into relatively the right places. It's driven Father crazy for years, but he obviously hasn't had time to sit down and redo the catalog himself."

"He's got the money to hire someone to do it."

"True, but there are some books here that humans probably shouldn't be left alone with."

Red eyes slid over to the Meister now most certainly squealing over the massive catalog.

"The catalog's harmless," the reaper told him with some amusement.

"So you think. She's probably making a list of things she's going to beg you to loan her." Soul then looked back to Kid. "So why are you doing this anyway? You live here and probably know the entire thing like the back of your hand."

"I do," Kid admitted without even a hint of embarrassment, "but I have to go out on missions for Father sometimes, so he can't always ask me to bring him what he's looking for. I thought modernizing the catalog along with digitally scanning the older, more delicate parts of our collection might be useful as well since it would make them more searchable without risk of further damage." He pointed to the desk where a laptop and a book scanner stood.

"Okay, so why now?"

"Father's Day present."

Soul smirked. "It's August. A little early, don't you think?"

Kid gave him a bland stare before spreading his arms to each side, gesturing to the entire library which took up three floors.

"…Touché. So what do you need me to do?"

The young death god walked the Weapon over to the desk with the machine that looked more like a desk lamp than a scanner and the laptop, reaching into the drawer for a spare set of archival gloves to give Soul. "Just lay the book flat under the scanner, hold it open on a page, and then press this button." He indicated a large button connected to the book scanner. "Make sure the image looks clear on the screen. If it doesn't, re-take the scan until you get a clean shot, turn the page, and repeat."

"What about the basic info about it? Like the author and stuff?" Soul asked, sliding on the gloves without prompting.

"I'll handle that."

"And those books humans shouldn't be left alone with?" One eyebrow lifted with amusement.

"I'll set those aside for me to do personally later."

"Good. I don't want to get a glimpse of the Necronomicron."

Kid gave an amused smirk, heading back to the ladder. "That one isn't here. It's safely locked up in the Academy."

Soul laughed. "Come on, man. We both know it isn't real."

The reaper stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his most enigmatic smile on his lips.

"… _Right?"_ the scythe asked, suddenly starting to sweat.

Kid raised an eyebrow of his own.

Soul stared in silence before looking to the laptop screen. "You know what? I don't wanna know. I really, _really_ don't wanna know."


	5. The Chains Death Must Accept

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** _The_ _Book of Eibon_ has a way of forcing someone to face the Deadly Sin they struggle the most with. For Kid, that sin was "Envy". Written for the prompt "Responsibility".

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _The Chains Death Must Accept_

As if Kid didn't have enough reasons, the third chapter made him really and truly _hate_ this book.

The first chapter had been odd but not terribly unusual. He and his father didn't advertise it, but reapers weren't as closely-bonded to their birth forms as mortals were. After all, his father had drastically changed both his true form and his shadow form's appearances after he'd started the DWMA. Add to that the facts that some cultures viewed Death as a female entity and how Death would flip his gender (and that of his son by extension) to show them respect, and it came as no surprise that the change to feminine shape held no intrigue for Kid. The moment he left the Lust chapter behind, he'd been back to normal.

Gluttony held equally-little interest for him. True, he did have to eat due to being an immature reaper (and he typically ate _a lot_ as a result), but he hadn't felt the least bit hungry since he'd entered the _Book_. As enticing as it all smelled, Kid had more important matters on his mind, specifically finding a way out…and messing with Noah's organizational system to hopefully slow down any plans the man might have.

After two successes, he hadn't put much thought into what the third chapter might hold for him. The pattern was obvious—two Deadly Sins down, five to go—but the third chapter's sin wasn't immediately apparent.

At least it wasn't until he heard the whispers.

" _I was thinking about being a writer when I grow up. Or maybe an actress!"_

" _I'm gonna be a scientist!"_

" _I wanna be a race car driver!"_

So many childish and not-so-childish plans for the future. Different voices at times changing their minds on a whim. The disembodied voices became faceless people in the hallways of the DWMA. Then they became people he knew or had at least seen in the halls regularly.

He gritted his teeth, trembling and attempting to ignore it all. He kept walking.

Then cold metal clamped down around his wrists and ankles. A thick collar appeared around his neck, and he felt the chain that wound its way down his back to his ankle bands, forcing absolutely perfect posture lest he start choking himself. There was only enough give in the chains to ensure that each movement was perfect, flawless. He lifted his wrists up into his view, seeing the manacles and the chains binding them were solid silver encrusted with glittering diamonds.

Thinner chains branched off from the collar around his neck to be held in the hands of everyone around him, thin leads binding him to these faceless handlers.

Binding him to humanity itself as their most prized slave.

He vibrated in pent-up rage and sorrow as he heard others whispering about how they were planning to defy their family lines to forge new paths for themselves. He saw Soul and Anya specifically, both conflicted about leaving families of wealth and prestige to come to the DWMA.

Then came the endless, ever-repeating questions: _Am I doing the right thing? Is this okay? Should I really do this instead of that?_

"At least you have a choice," he hissed as he resumed walking through the crowd, chains chiming as he did so. "You get to pick. And if it doesn't work out, you can change your mind."

He couldn't. When he'd last tried to leave it all behind, he'd realized very quickly that he could never escape his fate, never choose to be anything but what he'd been born to be.

"You're the son of the Grim Reaper," Maka told him, appearing suddenly beside him, clutching at one of his leads. "Your duty ultimately lies with humanity."

"You may be worshipped as a god, but the truth is that we're the real gods," Black*Star told him, appearing on his other side, also holding a lead.

Tsubaki spoke from behind him, and the slight chiming of silver alerted him to another thin chain. "You are to remain out of human affairs as much as possible. You may only interfere when there is a threat of Evil Humans attempting to walk the path of Kishin or when humanity grants you permission to intervene."

Soul's voice, the scythe no longer in front of him but somewhere behind, was next: "Death happens to everyone, and therefore is the only impartial power in the world. The Grim Reaper must remain a neutral party even if he becomes involved in the affairs of humanity lest the Balance be upset."

"For it is the duty of the Grim Reaper to be the agent of Balance and ensure that the world Order is preserved."

Kid stopped at the last voice as the silver-and-diamond leads wove around him like a spider's web ensnaring a fly. In front of him stood his father but not as most saw him: in his true mortal-seeming form with serious red eyes gazing directly into his son's soul. The younger reaper lowered his gaze, focusing on the golden, bejeweled collar worn by his father connected to millions of thin golden chains. The collar was different than his own: Kid's collar was seamless, inescapable, while Death's had an easy catch to remove it at any time…or, rather, to put it on in the first place.

Death spoke again, "As my heir, you must uphold these responsibilities before all else. Every human that volunteers to assist you may leave at any time, but you _must_ continue on for you are ultimately the one assisting them in achieving both peaceful lives and deaths."

Kid ground his teeth together. This wasn't his real father, but he'd first heard this lesson when he was barely old enough to understand. He'd known since early childhood what he was going to be and had been preparing his whole life for the title he was born into. The irony was that the title had originally been a purely voluntary one, Death taking up the mantle out of kindness for mortals, but for the son who would come after it was a prison.

"You tried running away from it," Patty said with a cruel giggle, back in her crazed appearance from her time on the streets of Brooklyn.

Liz, standing beside her sister, blew out a puff of smoke from her cigarette as she stood in the rags she'd worn as a street thug. "You and your dad made it all sound so professional, but you were somewhere you shouldn't have been when we found you." Her teeth clamped down on the cigarette as she gave a malicious smile of her own. "And that's when you realized the truth: That there was nowhere you could go to escape it all."

"This is who you are," Maka said, tugging the chain in her hand and making him stumble.

A yank from Black*Star. "You're ours."

"There are no alternatives for you." Tsubaki's pull made him whimper as the collar cut into his neck and broke the skin.

"Humanity can choose." Soul's harsh tug widened the cut.

"You and any of your heirs may not," Death finished. "This is the destiny of someone born a reaper."

Kid fell to his knees, hands reaching up to grasp at the now blood-slick collar. Tears flooded his eyes and poured down his cheeks. Everything being held at such rigid angles _hurt._ He had to be the perfect servant to humanity and must always be presentable. After all, hadn't he himself said he needed to be perfect?

But every time he affirmed his future position, every time he spoke with pride about the duties of a reaper, there was that little treasonous whisper: _I'm doing this because I have no other choice._

He sat there on his knees, head bowed as much as the collar and chains would allow. Each breath hitched as he tried to stop the flow of tears born of long-buried despair as he pictured his future centuries if not millennia beyond the current place in time: protecting and preserving humanity with the knowledge that any family he attempted to start would also be forced into bondage.

' _Or I could stay here.'_

He froze at the sudden thought.

That treasonous little voice whispered through his mind, _'I have a choice now. This won't be like the last time I tried to leave it all behind. I don't need material goods or a certain age to try and forge a path for myself. I can remain here and never have to worry about humanity again.'_

"And I'll be just another part of Noah's collection," Kid murmured out loud, arguing against the enticing thoughts.

' _A small price to pay. What would I have to do? Look presentable whenever Noah wants to admire me? How is that different from normal other than having significantly fewer responsibilities? Besides, how many humans have claimed that they don't need gods? Give them their wish and let them manage the Madness in their world themselves!'_

Kid's hands formed fists on his knees.

' _Besides, Father can always produce another heir. If it takes a while to raise that one while the Kishin is running around, perhaps humanity will learn some gratitude. See what it's like to have all of_ their _choices limited to one: survival in the face of Madness!'_

It was tempting to just give up and give in. Hadn't he always wanted to try other options for his life, to leave the burden of his lineage to others?

But then he remembered playing basketball with the group of friends he'd made, the bright smiles on Liz and Patty's faces when they finally left the streets of Brooklyn in the past where they belonged. None of that could've happen without a Grim Reaper. Humanity wasn't ready to do without reapers yet.

That last thought brought inspiration and hope, a long-term plan starting to form in his mind. Bolstered by the thought, he moved to stand though it was a struggle to get to his feet when he couldn't properly bend his body. However, he managed well enough and resumed his walk.

"Good boy," the fake Maka mockingly praised. "It's so much easier to just follow the path laid out for you."

Kid ignored her, smirking to himself as he passed through the portal to the next chapter.

He loathed the Envy chapter, but it had unintentionally helped him, too. He'd vowed long ago that if he was forced to be chained to humanity, he would create the perfect world.

Now he had some clear idea of just what that world would look like.


	6. A Taste of Home (Partners)

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** Near the beginning of their partnership, Kid is finding it difficult to connect personally to the Thompson sisters. After overhearing Liz talking with the owner of Deathbucks, Kid makes an attempt at giving her the taste of home that she craves. Meanwhile Liz starts actively trying to understand her and Patty's new Meister. Written for the prompt "Partners".

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _A Taste of Home_

It was important for new Weapon-Meister partners to spend time together to strengthen their soul bonds. It was a rule that went without saying. After all, how could one learn to get along with someone else if they didn't?

Kid understood that, as a reaper, it was easy for him to resonate with any Weapon he chose. (His left eye twitched at the memory of Patty learning that fact and laughingly calling him nothing but "Soul Slut" for a week.) However, he wanted a partnership much like his father and the Death Scythes had. Creating two Death Scythes to his own specifications was one thing; becoming _partners_ with them was entirely another.

Actually, he was afraid that it'd prove to be impossible.

Liz and Patty were as different from him as day was from night. While their probation at Deathbucks was helping them significantly in adjusting to life in Death City, they were still wild and untamed…not that he wanted to bring them to heel. As unfortunate as it was that only their Weapon forms were identical, the pair were perfectly matched in soul and thus absolutely radiant in his eyes. He'd rather die than crush such beauty.

But it also meant that it was hard for him to connect with the girls. They had nothing in common: different backgrounds, different personalities, different _species_ for the love of his father! He felt less like a god and more like a dog crawling on his belly in hopes of pleasing his mistresses every time he tried to find _something_ to bring them together. Thus far, his attempts were met with largely negative results.

Though, to be honest, he was grateful that Liz had stopped throwing coffee cups at him every time he went to Deathbucks to observe the pair. Despite her accusations, he hadn't been trying to spy on the pair in regards to their probation but more in hopes of finding some means of connecting to these Brooklyn Devils.

A glance through the front windows showed a distinct lack of customers though that had more to do with the time than the girls' own attitudes nowadays. Patty was preoccupied with creating another rather impressive Godzilla-style monster out of napkins. (How she was able to suspend those three long necks of the hydra-style creature without any sort of support structure Kid couldn't figure out.) Liz was leaning over the counter talking to Master.

He carefully opened the front door, the bell tinkling quietly as he did so. Underneath the cool mask he projected to the world, he was tense, bracing himself for Liz to turn around and either shout at him to leave or send a cup flying at his face again.

Neither of the Thompsons took notice of the bell or of him standing in the doorway. Given the amount of concentration Patty was putting into her sculpture, a bomb probably could've gone off without her noticing as long as it didn't wreck her creation. Liz, however, was engrossed in conversation with Master.

"—this place isn't nice," Liz complained, the first part of the conversation missed by Kid, "but is it really too much to ask for a little taste of home?"

"I suppose not," Master said noncommittally.

The man glanced up to see Kid there. A brow lifted slightly, Liz not seeing it due to playing with her own cup of coffee.

Kid held up a hand and shook his head, backing out of the restaurant. He didn't want to risk eavesdropping any more than he already had. He grimaced as the bell jangled upon the door closing but turned and walked away.

* * *

The bell sounding as if someone had hit it directly with something drew Liz's attention to it, seeing Patty turn to look as well out of the corner of her eye.

"Shhhhoot!" Liz hissed, swapping words at the last moment. She'd been making an effort to try and clean up her language a little recently; her strange little Meister had seemed to appreciate it. At first she'd started doing so in hopes of letting his guard down for them to rob him blind, but recently she had started to make a more honest effort because, well, Kid preferred it when she wasn't swearing every other sentence. "Sorry, Master. We should've been paying closer attention."

"It's fine. He'll probably come back another day if not later on," the man told her.

"Wait. 'He'?" Liz groaned. "Don't tell me…"

Patty whined from her spot beside the window, "Awww…we missed Kid!"

Liz put her face in her hand. "He was spying _again?_ What is it with him? I thought we were doing good."

"Are you sure he's coming here just to see how your probation is going?" Master asked.

The elder sister lowered her hand to blink at him, Patty coming up beside her with a confused "Oh?"

Master took his time gathering beans to grind into one of his specialty blends, preparing for the customers that would start showing up again in another half hour or so. "If he was checking up on your progress, he could've just asked some of the agents who come in to assess you."

Liz stared blankly for a few seconds before screeching, "You mean some of our customers are—?!"

"Not so much anymore," Master assured her. "I don't expect you two will have to work here much longer because you've been doing so well."

"But if Kid's not here for that stuff, why does he keep coming back? He doesn't even like coffee," Patty wondered aloud. "He drinks tea like his dad. Sis had to threaten to leave before he bought her that fancy coffee machine."

"Patty!" the older Thompson sister whined.

"Very likely he's not sure how to approach you two and is hoping to get some insight from watching you."

Liz frowned. "So why not just come out and say it? Make it easier on everyone."

"He is." Master looked up from his bean grinding to gaze at her. "Women use words; men use action. Your Meister will use both but right now he's falling back on purely action since I doubt he's ever dealt with anyone like you two before and doesn't know what to say in words."

The older girl sighed. "Well, now I feel bad for chucking all those cups at him."

"Ooh maybe we can bring him something when we get off shift, Sis!" the younger sister chirped.

"Hmm…" Liz put a hand to her chin. "Maybe…" She then looked to their boss. "Do you think you could save some scones for us to take home? You can take it out of my pay for today."

Master blinked in surprise.

"Take some from me, too!" Patty cheered. "And can we have some jam?"

"Scones and jam?"

"He likes tea, remember? He seems like the kind of guy who'd like scones to go with them." Liz crossed her arms. "Not like we can ask to all go out for some fun on the town. This place is pretty much dead by eleven. Death City really could use some New York City flavor in that department."

The man gave another blink before he softly chuckling. "I think I can arrange that."

* * *

"… _is it really took much to ask for a little taste of home?"_

Kid walked aimlessly around Death City, left turns following right turns and visa versa. His hands were in his pockets as he pondered Liz's words.

"A little taste of home…" he mused aloud.

So they were feeling homesick for Brooklyn? He didn't understand why. Brooklyn had been awful to them. He'd thought they'd been starting to accept Death City as their new home.

Then again, he'd never lived anywhere _but_ Death City. He had nothing to compare how it felt to leave your entire life behind so you could start a new one elsewhere. Then again, the times he'd had to spend longer than a day or two (outside of travel) beyond the confines of his father's soul, he'd felt a longing for Death City. It wasn't quite the same, he knew, but at least it gave him a rough idea of how the girls might feel.

However, this presented a troubling problem: He wanted them to be happy, but what would truly make them happy was impossible. Even with the vast amount of money Kid and his father had at their disposal, it wasn't as if it were possible to uproot either Death City or New York and move them closer together. Going for regular day trips might help but it seemed like it'd be the equivalent of sticking a Band-Aid on a much more serious injury. He needed something they had access to even when he was busy with work for his father.

The periodic glances up so he could check the sidewalk ahead of him prevented him from walking straight into a chalkboard sign propped up in front of a pizzeria playing the most stereotypical Italian music he'd heard in a long time. He nearly walked by it until the words "New York" jumped out at him from the uneven writing.

"The best New York style pizza in town!" the sign proclaimed. "Sold by the slice!"

"New York has its own style of making pizza?" he wondered, tilting his head to one side.

Well, considering Death City had its own local cuisine (though non-natives balked at both dead chicken and dead steak), it probably shouldn't have been that surprising. Given how large New York City was and how many different people lived in it, it should've come as no surprise that it'd developed its own styles of cooking much like Death City had due to its isolation. He wondered what else New Yorkers ate regularly.

A thought sparked its way across his mind. He stood staring sightlessly at the chalkboard as a plan laid itself out in his mind. However, he needed more data before he could execute it, and he didn't have a lot of time to do that. The girls' shift at Deathbucks would be over in a few hours. Everything had to be finished by then.

He summoned Beelzebub and rocketed away from the pizzeria, heading towards the DWMA and its library.

* * *

Liz sighed as she opened the front door to the Gallows Manor. She was never going to get used to walking past those two guillotines out front. They seemed less like lawn decoration and more like a threat.

The entire afternoon Deathbucks had been slammed, but she and Patty emerged victorious with not just their hides in-tact but bearing a doggy bag filled with two of Master's handmade scones and a small jar of the apricot jam he used.

"Kid, we're—Whoa!" Patty yelped as she nearly skipped right into a delivery man who'd been reaching for the door.

"Sorry, ma'am," the young man apologized, tapping the brim of his baseball cap which declared he was from Valentino's Pizzeria.

"No problem," Liz said, moving to one side to give him room to slide between the two sisters. She'd seen the van parked slightly down the street, but she hadn't thought the driver would be making a delivery _here._ Then again, if she thought walking past those guillotines as a member of the household was intimidating, she could only imagine what it was like when you weren't.

Her suspicions were confirmed as the man scurried down the path as quickly as possible, keeping his gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate.

Only then did she and Patty enter the house, closing the door behind them.

"Kid, we're home~!" Patty sang, jogging farther into the house. Her bright colors and cheerful attitude seemed to make the monochrome home seem a little less sterile.

There was no response but that wasn't surprising: The house was huge, so Kid might not have heard Patty. Still, the young reaper would likely be along soon enough once his Soul Perception alerted him to their presence. He'd probably startle Liz in the process; he always did despite claiming it was unintentional. She wasn't entirely certain she believed him, but Kid did blend in with the black-and-white interior at times.

The duo headed towards the dining room, lured by the delicious scent of pizza and a few other items they currently had no names for. Kid must've been too busy to cook today (it still amazed her to see the little rich boy cooking them meals like a servant in his own home) and he must've realized it was too late to hire someone to cook for the night. The young reaper didn't do delivery as a general rule, something Liz actually appreciated. She'd grown weary of cheap fast food and take out from her time on the street.

Patty reached the dining room first, freezing in the doorway. "Wow! Sis, you gotta see this!"

"It's just pizza, Patty." Liz stepped into the doorway as well, looking inside with as bored an expression as she could manage. "We've had it—"

She stopped, mouth hanging open.

Across the table, neatly laid out, was a small feast of various different foods. There were at least three different plates with three wide, flat pizza slices each. A plate with six bagels filled with thin little slices of salmon sat next to a bowl of some sort of fancy salad. Another plate held a dozen knishes, the funny little filled pastries that the pair had occasionally splurged their ill-gotten gains on. Next to that were two plates of three pastrami sandwiches each. Lording over all of that were three cake plates, each bearing a cheesecake. All of them had small, neatly-written placards bearing the names of the stores they had come from if the pizza plate bearing the "Valentino's" placard was any indicator.

Kid looked up from carefully arranging that particular plate in as aesthetically pleasing a manner as possible. He gave them a small smile, and Liz was surprised at how nervous and eager-to-please it was. Though she and Patty had abandoned their plan to take the little reaper for all he was worth, Liz felt guilt merrily play with her insides even as she mentally thanked his father that he'd found her and her sister rather than someone else who still would've gone through with robbing him blind even after everything he'd done for them.

"Welcome back," he greeted.

"Yeah, um…wow. This is…" She fumbled, searching for words.

"Yummy! Thanks, Kid!" Patty rushed over to hug the young reaper who awkwardly returned the gesture. (At the very beginning of their association, Liz would've gotten angry since she'd thought it was because he was touching someone he saw as beneath him, but she knew better now: Kid just hadn't gotten hugs that often prior to Patty making a regular habit of giving them to him.) "You didn't need to get us so much pizza and stuff though!"

"I didn't originally intend to, but so many places claimed to have 'authentic' New York style foods that I thought you could narrow down which ones were truly authentic. I know there'll be plenty of leftovers for the next few days, but please endure it."

Kid didn't fidget but his formal way of speaking hinted at how anxious he was. It was moments like this Liz almost pitied him: The boy always wanted to do things perfectly, but in scenarios like this where there was no proper way of handling things, he defaulted to acting formally though at least he wasn't slipping into what Patty called "full-blown stick up his ass mode" as often these days.

Patty picked up one of the three empty plates, piling on her selections. Liz noted that there were slightly different toppings for the pizzas and breads for the sandwiches. Ah, so Kid had figured out to account for her sister likely mixing up her selections.

The elder sister walked over to their Meister, the doggy bag from Deathbucks held at her side. "Jeez, Kid. Did you call every place in town?"

"Only those without websites," Kid admitted. "Please help yourself."

"In a minute. I need to mourn for my thighs before I ruin them," she quipped.

"You'll work any weight you gain off in no time."

Given all the training they did to prepare for when they'd finally be allowed on Kid's missions, Liz had to admit that was likely true.

The pair stood in silence as Patty sat down in her usual spot to the left of the head of the table and tore into the first slice of pizza. Liz gave a soft smile at the sight of her sister's enthusiasm, the younger girl wearing the exact same expression she'd always dreamed of Patty wearing when they'd been on the street.

"So how much did you hear when you stopped by the café?" she asked, not looking at Kid.

"You'd mentioned that you wanted a taste of home. I managed to remember that the DWMA cafeteria offers cuisine from all over the world to do the same for its students, so I did some research at the library to find what foods New York is known for before looking up the local restaurants. I didn't find anyone who made New York style hot dogs though."

"No complaints here. Patty and I ate enough of those on the street. I know _I'm_ sick of them. But…" Liz grimaced, not wanting to admit it but he'd been honest with her. Might as well reciprocate. "…I actually wasn't talking about the food. I meant the feel of New York."

A glance showed him looking up at her with wide gold eyes before those eyes dropped to the floor. "Oh. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have presumed."

"Maybe not, but…" She felt her cheeks turn pink. (Stupid Kid with his stupid ability to be so adorable without even trying. Was that some sort of natural defense mechanism for young reapers?) "…it was really nice of you to do this. You didn't have to." Remembering the bag in her hand, she practically slammed it into his chest, startling him. "Here. We managed to get Master to save you some scones and the jam he serves. Figured you might like them for breakfast or high tea or whatever."

He took the bag gingerly, peeking inside as she calmed her blush down. "I didn't know Master served scones."

"Usually they're sold out by the time you decide to poke your nose in."

He gave a less reserved smile up at her, one she couldn't help but return. "Thank you, Liz. To be honest, I haven't had scones since the time I had tea at Buckingham Palace with the queen. I'll have to see about getting some clotted cream to go with them."

"You really expect me to believe you had tea with the fu-freaking Queen of England?"

"I'm serious." He gestured to the food as a mute invitation for her to take what she wanted before he started filling his own plate. "Father was seething with jealousy for a week. Ask Death Scythe."

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Tell us!" Patty called from her seat.

Kid glanced at Liz who grinned as she finished making her selections.

"You can't leave it like that," she told him as she walked towards her own seat, plate in hand. She'd tried to be good with her choices, but there was still more food on her plate than what was probably polite. (She'd always taken as much as she could in the fear that there wouldn't be any for later. True, that wasn't the case in this house, but old habits died hard. At least Kid's own eating habits camouflaged hers and Patty's the rare times they ate in public.)

He sighed as he finished filling his plate (the amount politer than hers or Patty's but it was guaranteed not to be his only plate of the night) to sit at the head of the table between his two Weapons. "It was about a year ago. I was in London for a fairly minor reap—just a dozen drug traffickers who'd thought to expand their ring to trading humans—and the queen somehow caught wind of it all…"


	7. The Future Isn't Ready (Family)

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** After Asura's destruction, Kid collapses. Death can only hold his son as the boy recovers and be grateful for a little more time. Written for the prompt "Family". Anime-verse.

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _The Future Isn't Ready_

Too much. This…this had been…too much…

The skies, once more blue, were filled with white clouds and hovering souls. He could finally feel his father's wavelength without the interference of Asura's Madness, reassuring him that his father still lived. It was all so beautiful, so very beautiful.

His head hurt; his body hurt; his _soul_ hurt. It took so much concentration to stand and behave normally.

"Kiiiiid?" Liz's voice, slow and distorted, asked from somewhere close to him. "Yoooou ooookaaaay? Yoooou're nooot looookiiiiing soooo goooooood."

He blinked slowly as the brightly-glowing blue orbs started to smear in his vision. He brought a hand up to his head, gripping at his Sanzu Lines. His head hurt the worst here, and the pounding was joined by spinning.

"—burrrrrniiiing uuuup!" Liz's warped voice shouted.

Something was burning? How come he didn't feel it? He felt cold, ice cold, cold as death. Huh. Patty was right. That joke _was_ funny in regards to him.

He took a step forward as his internal sense of balance alerted him to the fact that he was starting to fall. Hands grabbed his arms to help support him, Liz and Patty's voices little more than auditory soup that was joined by other voices, all of them swirling about in his head that just kept pounding. Why was the left side of his head hurting more than the right? It was uneven. If his head had to hurt, he needed it to ache evenly.

His knees buckled, and the world went grey. He stared at Maka's colorless face as she jumped down to join her friends. She was saying something, but the words were too slow and garbled for him to understand. She reached out to widen one of his eyes, staring into it as her mouth produced nothing but nonsense.

The second she released it, his world went dark as both eyes closed.

* * *

Death sat at his son's bedside, for once having shed his mask and shadow form. It was easier to heal such significant damage in his true form. He was grateful he had been in his shadow form during the fight with Asura. Had his true form taken such a powerful direct hit, he wasn't sure he would've survived it. Kid would've been forced to ascend immediately.

Seeing what he did now, Death was grateful that it hadn't come to that.

' _He's still not ready.'_

Kid lay in the hospital bed, whimpering in his sleep as pain and nightmares interrupted his rest. His child, his precious son, hadn't been ready to connect his Lines. The current backlash more than proved it. His Lines were meant to connect one at a time, his body and soul ready to compensate for each step until the end. Having all three connect at once with no preparation could've just as easily shredded Kid's soul as fire that powerful attack that had greatly weakened Asura.

' _That was too close.'_

Kid gave a whine, his soul wavelength releasing a blast of energy that would've done major damage to any humans in the room. Death winced, grateful that his soul wavelength was so close to his son's so they resonated enough to prevent either of them getting injured from it.

"Shh…" Death murmured, reaching out to touch his son's feverish cheek before brushing sweat-soaked bangs out of the child's face. "Shh…you're all right. I'm here. You're safe. No one is going to hurt you."

The younger reaper gave another whine before opening his eyes a crack. His gaze was unfocused as he stared at his father through narrowed eyes. "Dad?"

"I'm here," the older god repeated, fingers ghosting across Kid's burning forehead. "Just rest."

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled. "I didn't trust you…and then the kishin…"

"It's all right." He leaned forward to plant a kiss where his fingers had been moments before. "Just focus on resting. You and your friends took a real beating from that battle."

Kid looked like he wanted to protest. He sniffled as tears slipped free from his eyes.

Carefully, Death rose from his seat, grimacing as his own injuries voiced their protests to him moving. He gently picked up his son and positioned himself on the bed, cradling Kid in his lap like when he was a small child.

Kid's head lolled to one side, ear resting over Death's heart. He gave the elder reaper a nuzzle before attempting to bury his face in his father's chest at a fresh wave of pain. The glass pitcher of water that had been on the stand beside the bed shattered as a blast of soul energy struck it.

"Shh…just relax. It'll be over soon."

At least Death hoped so. He'd never seen a backlash like this before. Then again, there had never been an incomplete fragment who'd briefly connected his Lines in such a manner before. Until Kid's soul finished venting off the excess energy and started healing itself, the boy wasn't out of the woods: It was still possible for his soul to tear itself apart from too much power too soon.

The Grim Reaper clutched Kid a little tighter to his chest. He would physically survive it if he lost Kid, but emotionally, spiritually he'd die. Bad enough he'd already lost…

He bent his head to touch his forehead to that of his son, closing his eyes and initiating a full Soul Resonance. It was nothing like the resonance between Meister and Weapon. He didn't have to try and match his wavelength to Kid's: They were literally part of each other and their souls naturally called to one another. Plus Kid still possessed a "pure" piece of Death's wavelength within him, the phasmological equivalent of an umbilical cord allowing Kid to draw from Death's own immense strength. Perhaps it was that connection that had saved his son in the first place, allowing the older reaper to subconsciously drain off a good portion of that excess power following Kid's strike.

Death felt Kid hesitate before reaching back to resonate with him. He sent waves of comfort, his soul wavelength purring against Kid's as the younger reaper clung desperately to their connection, his hand in the real world gripping Death's robes tightly. The elder reaper held him in both his literal and metaphorical arms as each wave of agony wracked his son's small body and soul.

All the while he thanked the Order of the world for granting him the opportunity to spend a little more time with Kid.


	8. Visiting Hours (Legacy)

Ordered Chaos  
By Cybra

 **Story Summary:** As the rest of Death City sleeps, Kid—now known primarily as "Lord Death"—reaches with his soul wavelength to his sealed brother to speak with Asura and tell him the good news: He and Eibon have found a way for _all_ of the Great Old Ones to go home. Written for the prompt "Legacy".

 **Disclaimer:** _Soul Eater_ belongs to Atsushi Ohkubo.

 _Visiting Hours_

Old friends grew up and started their own families who in turn grew up and started _their_ own families. Time ravaged the faces and bodies of the people he loved best, yet he remained young and unchanged, a constant in their lives even as he changed the Order of the world.

But as the first centennial of his reign neared, he felt weary. Black*Star had finally passed on, the man proclaimed a Warrior God finally succumbing to humanity's weakness of mortality. With him went the name "Death the Kid" as no mortal (human or Witch) felt comfortable calling him "Kid" save the reaper himself, so it became a private name. Even Kim, the last mortal member of Spartoi, had stopped calling him by his birth name decades ago.

Perhaps in another century or two he would finally start referring to himself in his own head as simply "Death".

Despite not having needed to sleep since Asura's fall, the death god—still so young compared to his father's millennia of age—felt tired. As Death City and the rest of the western hemisphere slept, he went to the roof of the DWMA, a small mirror in his pocket in case of emergencies, just as he'd done every night since his last failed attempt at getting some sleep himself. Nights in Death City were dull when you were the only one awake, but at least that meant the world had finally started reaching a point where he wasn't inundated twenty-four-seven with issues.

As he stared up at the swallowed moon, he reached out with his soul wavelength, easily pushing through two layers of Madness for the soul wavelength with hints of that of their father. He could feel Crona, but the other either couldn't resonate with him or refused to. Likely the latter given how Kid had been able to periodically resonate with the Witch up until he'd delivered the bad news about Maka forty years ago. Maybe in a few more decades Crona would respond to him again or maybe they wouldn't ever "speak" to him again up until the moment they died. The Witch's Madness wavelength was on a kishin-like level, but Crona—as a Witch—was still ultimately mortal unlike their prisoner.

 _/What do you want, brother?/_ Asura sulked in response to Kid's probing.

 _/It's a quiet night. I thought you might want some company./_

 _/You were bored and looking for someone to talk to. You really are just a human at heart, aren't you?/_

Despite the contempt in the comment, Kid took it as a compliment. It had been, after all, their father's intention for him to understand mortals on a level none of the other Great Old Ones could. For all the older reaper's faults and all the pain of grief that this decision had brought his younger son, it had been the foundation needed for a new era of Witches and humans living together, the cornerstone of the world Kid was working to build.

It had taken thirty years and watching Spirit and Maka finally reconcile after years of animosity on the daughter's part for Kid to start reaching out to the only "biological" family he had left. Via their conversations (nothing but arguments those first ten years) and the journals their father had left behind, Kid had learned that that need to be a perfect god hadn't come from the ether or even his own Madness: It had been passed down from the previous Death who'd thought he could perfect himself for the humans he watched over by ridding himself of his fear. A foolish endeavor but one Kid could understand and forgive even if Asura still couldn't, but at least the kishin was responding with less open hostility towards the current Death specifically nowadays.

Perhaps when Crona finally died and released Asura, the kishin would be willing to reign in his Madness wavelength just as the other four Great Old Ones did whether it be through conscious effort like Kid or isolation like Eibon.

Through their resonance, Asura snorted, obviously feeling Kid's pleasure at his intended insult. _/Was there an actual reason for this meeting or are you just trying to annoy me? Some days I wish you'd just shoved me back into a bag of my own skin. At least it was quiet when Father did it./_

 _/There was,/_ Kid said, ignoring the bitterness in the other's tone. _/I've been talking with Eibon, and we've worked out a way for all of us to go back./_

A pause in the connection, and surprise arced across it. _/"All of us"?/_

 _/I wasn't going to leave you here. Not only is it unsafe for this realm, but I thought you might feel safer back where we truly belong./_

 _/You're going to reward me after everything I've done?/_ Asura sneered.

Kid said nothing, allowing his silence and raw emotion to say everything he needed to. There were no lies in a Soul Resonance, and Asura would feel the longing for companionship that wasn't snuffed out in a few centuries at best. He would also feel Kid's understanding that while Asura's actions had earned him his imprisonment, he hadn't been entirely forsaken. Not anymore.

 _/…You're too soft-hearted, brother. This plan of yours will never work. Your precious mortals will never reach the point where you can leave them unattended./_

 _/You're just afraid of going back./_

 _/We weren't born of that realm. That will be more than obvious to our "cousins"./_

Kid's lips twitched with amusement. _/In which case, ridiculing my "human heart" will be more than enough to keep them busy, don't you think?/_

That earned a "laugh", his imprisoned brother's own amusement rippling through the connection. _/If you're willing to set yourself up as a target, I won't stop you./_

The young death god's smile softened at a sudden breeze of desert air. Despite how cold Death Valley became at night, this wisp of air felt warm and comforting. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but it was as if the previous Death had reached out from beyond the grave to express his approval for what Kid was doing. At least, he hoped his father would've approved.

 _/I still can't believe you're going through with such an insane plan./_

 _/The time of Great Old Ones is over,/_ Kid said, echoing the words Excalibur had once told him, _/but mortalkind isn't ready for it yet. I have more than enough time to lay the foundation for a world where they won't need a reaper's constant presence. It's the least I can do to thank them for everything they've done for Father and me./_

 _/They're going to tear up that foundation the moment you leave. This realm will be left as nothing more than the lifeless husk they'd made it the last time mortals were solely in charge./_

Kid grimaced. _/Father had faith in them, and so do I./_

 _/Your faith is misguided, but you'll learn that yourself in time. Assuming the mortals don't simply break you first./_

The young reaper sighed at the other's pessimism. Secretly he wondered if Asura was right all while hoping the kishin was wrong. _/I have to go. The sun will be rising soon./_

There was no farewell from Asura, the resonance simply ending.

With a weary sigh, Kid took one last look at the darkened moon as the first rays of sunlight gleamed in the distance. Then he turned to walk back into the DWMA, heading for the Death Room that he had yet to change.

Another day and hopefully another step forward in training his heir, mortalkind itself.


End file.
